


Possession

by saisei



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: "Just the tip" leads to noncon penetration, A/B/O - Only the Aggressor is in Heat/Rut, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Betrayal/Abuse of trust, M/M, Nonconathon Treat, POV Rapist, Rape, Raped by Soulmate, Rapist Ignores Previously Negotiated Boundaries, Rapist takes advantage of victim's loyalty to them, Rutting, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-02 19:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19447906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: Noct calls Ignis when he gets his first rut.





	Possession

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melokho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melokho/gifts).



"We can be adults about this," Ignis says. He's shaking, still, but he's forgotten to pull the blanket up to his shoulders again, after it fell while he was looking... stuff up on his phone.

" _You_ can be an adult," Noct says, still flush with hormones. " _I'm_ the Prince."

Ignis' hand shakes so hard the phone nearly falls.

*

The thing is... Noct _knows_ Ignis the way no one else does. He's had nearly his whole lifetime to learn how Ignis thinks, what his goals and dreams are, what he aspires to – and how to use that knowledge to manipulate him to get what he wants.

Ignis is older and bigger and probably smarter; Noct has to be wily to get around him. Most people assume he has a little-brother complex, and Noct doesn't correct them, even though they're wrong.

He doesn't want to _be_ like Ignis; he wants to own him, all of him, and he wants Ignis to want that, too.

So maybe he's deliberately incautious when he comes home from school with a low fever and a headache and so horny that he jerks off before he's even taken his shoes off, and then again when he's in the shower, and once on the sofa while in the middle of Moogling _first rut?_ He has pills in the medicine cabinet, but he loathes the idea of medicating away this burning desire. It's natural, right? Just because he's supposed to have his first mating and hopefully force a soulbond with some politically-expedient partner doesn't meant he _wants_ that.

What he _wants_ is Ignis.

He closes the browser and sends a quick message: _I don't feel well._

Ignis' reply is instant and predictable, asking after symptoms and making sensible suggestions.

Noct huffs in frustration. His biggest symptom is that he has one-hundred-percent no desire to be sensible. _Come over._ Not a question. Practically an order.

He wonders if he can jerk off again before Ignis gets here. It seems likely – he's still hard, even if sore from how rough he was before – but he makes himself wait. He gets up, finds the pill bottle, and hides it in his room. He takes off his pajamas as well; the fabric is annoying. His skin is all wrong, too hot and oversensitive. He could probably come again if someone touched his knees, which are bony and the least sexy part of him. But he's just that keyed up, and if the someone was Ignis? No question.

Thinking about it makes his dick throb, and he curls his hands into fists as he lies on the sofa and waits.

When Ignis arrives he has a canvas bag of juice and some food boxed up. He sets this out on the counter with a slowness that means he's thinking. He doesn't ask Noct how he feels; Noct wonders if he can _smell_ sex in the air, and already knows what the problem is.

He should be ashamed of that, but he isn't.

Ignis goes into the bathroom, and returns with a damp cloth. He says hello and then wipes Noct's forehead gently, like that will bring down the fever.

The cold of it is a shock, making Noct recoil and shiver right down to his toes. He grabs Ignis' wrist – tight – and says, "Don't."

Ignis' expression slides carefully from worried and indulgent to guarded. "Do you know where your pills are?"

Noct uses his grip to pull himself up, throws his other arm around Ignis' neck, and kisses him, pulling him down on top of him.

"Noct," Ignis says, no-nonsense, even though his lips are touching Noct's as he tries to detangle himself.

Even deep in the haze of rut – which makes Ignis' bare skin under his hands light every nerve ending up like fireworks – Noct knows he'll never be able to overpower Ignis without hurting both of them quite badly. But Ignis has weaknesses, and Noct knows his biggest one.

He lets Ignis go, and in the instant when Ignis pulls back Noct grabs a dagger from the Armiger (one of Ignis' for the drama of it) and presses it against his arm. Ignis stills, Glacian-frozen, gaze flickering between Noct's eyes and the blade, which has already drawn blood. Ignis keeps it _sharp_.

"I want you," Noct says. " _Please_. For my first time. Not a stranger. I trust you, more than anyone. _Please._ " He wets his lips. "Please."

"Put the dagger away," Ignis says.

"Promise we can have this first."

Ignis swallows, and Noct waits. The steel in his hand is heavy, and the edge slips a little on his sweaty skin. A fine line of blood slips down his wrist; it reminds Noct of dragging a lure through still waters.

"Please."

Ignis' shoulders pinch inwards; Noct knows that means he's unhappy, and he breathes through his mouth to ward off a victorious smile.

"Fine," Ignis says, so that it's clear to Noct that he's very much not fine. "But no – no penetration." He looks as if saying the word pains him. "Aside from the fact that that would be treason, I brought you juice, not condoms."

"Take your shirt off, Specs," Noct breathes out. "Let me see."

They change in front of each other all the time in the locker room; it feels different now, watching Ignis undo his buttons and, after a moment's hesitation, tug off his shirt and drop it to the floor. The hot flush – of shame or arousal – that stains Ignis' cheeks is creeping down his neck. He hides how well he's built under carefully-tailored clothes, but he's solid muscle. Noct wants to lick him all over.

"And your pants." Noct wonders if he's begging for too much, but adds a _please_ anyway.

Ignis stands, undoes his belt, lets his trousers fall, and steps out of the legs with neat disdain. After a moment's hesitation, he takes his socks off as well.

"You're perfect," Noct tells him. "I'd be terrified without you. I feel like I'm losing control. Kiss me?"

"You'll be fine," Ignis replies, rote but still reassuring, his voice warmed by sympathy. "I'm not going anywhere, but you need to put the dagger away."

Noct stares at him until Ignis leans over and presses their mouths together. It's his final surrender, his acquiescence to Noct's will; however much he may think this is a bad idea, he's committed now.

Noct sends the dagger away, and pulls Ignis down, praising him and touching him and telling him how it feels to be possessed, to have his body parched and starving, with appetites he has no ability to quench on his own. He needs someone to touch, he needs hair he can pull and a mouth he can plunder, he needs Ignis' hand on his dick.

Ignis' hand is much better than his own, especially once Noct kicks off his underwear. His rhythm is different, and Noct pictures Ignis getting himself off, alone in bed at night. Ignis licks his palm to make his grip hot and slick; Noct imagine sticking his dick in Ignis' mouth. The mental image is shockingly obscene: Ignis has told Noct so many times not to talk with his mouth full, but what if his own lips were stretched around Noct's shaft? Ignis talked a lot. He'd probably be great at blowjobs.

But that's not what Noct's body is demanding; now that Ignis is here, he just keeps getting wound tighter and tighter but _none_ of this is good enough to get him off. The thrill is fast becoming a frustration. He's so damn _hungry_ , and Ignis is a _feast_.

"Take these off," he says, pushing at the waistband to Ignis' undershorts. "I want to see you. Are you turned on?" Ignis is distracted into answering _yes_ , and then tries to backtrack by saying something-something propriety. "Off," Noct repeats, hand sliding under fabric, biting at Ignis' neck.

Ignis shudders, and the shorts go away. Noct wriggles under him – Ignis covers him head to toe, a breathtaking feeling – until their dicks align, and then rocks up against him. Ignis is only half-hard, which alarms Noct for a second before he remembers. He slips his hand down to cup one asscheek, and then between Ignis' legs.

Ignis stiffens; his knees are on either side of Noct's thighs, so he can't close his legs, so he starts to pull away, but Noct's already dipping his fingers into the slick between Ignis' legs. It's like touching the crystal, a jolt of power going through him like a shock; he did this, he made Ignis so wet and wanting. He's dizzy with need, and forcing himself to strategize is hard when all his higher brain functions are shutting down.

But he tells Ignis he wants to taste him, and Ignis blinks in surprise, expression far too calculating for someone whose blush is fast approaching his nipples. Ignis is trying to control everything he can, to keep this encounter from going too far. He's probably most worried about Noct wanting to fuck him; oral might be embarrassing for him, but Noct can tell Ignis will take any amount of humiliation if he thinks it'll distract Noct from anything irreparable.

Losing his virginity. Knocking Ignis up. Forming a soulbond with a _servant_.

Noct circles a finger around the rim of Ignis' hole, hoping it feels good, hoping it feels like a threat.

"If you must," Ignis says, tense.

Noct gleefully rearranges them on the sofa, Ignis on the bottom this time, on his knees with his ass in the air and his head on his folded arms, hiding his face. Noct spreads him open and tries to lick him clean of slick. Ignis – _Ignis_ , of all people – squirms and muffles undignified sex noises against his arms. His toes curl and uncurl, and Noct feels like a pillar of fire, like maybe the urban legend was true, maybe he will go blind from lust, or even die.

He slides his tongue into Ignis, and then his tongue and a thumb.

Ignis says something that only resolves into _Noct_ when he repeats himself. "Don't," he adds. His voice is all stuffed up, which is how Noct knows he wants this just as much.

"I swear I won't do – do anything you don't want, I _promise_ ," Noct says, as urgently as if he means it. "I just want to know – to see – I'll just put it in this far," he demonstrates with his thumb," that's it. Just to see."

"That's a monumentally bad idea," Ignis says. Which isn't a _no_ , or at least that's how Noct hears it.

He just has to shift forward and kneel up and his dick is _right there_ , and Ignis is so wet that it's easy to slide in. Just a thumb-length.

"You should see," he says, feeling like he's having a religious experience. He rubs his finger around Ignis' stretched rim, feeling that place where they're joined. Where they are one. "You're beautiful like this."

"Please take it out," Ignis says; not begging, precisely, but as if he's trying to appeal to something in Noct. Noct's breath catches. It feels like they're caught in a dance at the top of a precipice – 

and then Noct's hips snap forward, driving all the way into Ignis as he drops his weight down on him, hands at the back of Ignis' shoulders, holding him down while he forces Ignis' body to make room for him. He feels possessed, utterly out of control, but at the same time he is certain he is doing just what he always wanted to do.

He's making Ignis his, with every thrust. He knows Ignis feels it, too, the buildup of a charge between them, like the moment before lightning strikes. Ignis' struggle to get free suddenly isn't careful to not cause Noct injury; he tries to twist around and yank Noct off with his legs, but it's already too late. Noct can see the way Ignis' eyes go comically wide and his mouth drops open as electricity snaps between them, as suddenly everything feels overwhelming, his ears popping, like they've been yanked up into the Astral realm and are tumbling through the stars. Noct's never had an orgasm like this, that keeps unfolding and growing larger, shaking him from head to toe, making him scream, drenching him in sweat and making him bite and claw at Ignis to keep him under him, where he belonged, for now and for ever.

When he comes back to himself, he realizes he's knotted Ignis, and there's a band of magic between them, anchored in his heart.

He doesn't know how to explain how happy this makes him feel, so he just waits, resting his head against Ignis' back, until the knot goes down and his dick slips free. He gets up and pours Ignis a glass of juice, and lets him have the first shower, and is worried enough by how quiet Ignis is that he tells him to stay the night, here where he's safe.

*

"Go to sleep," Noct says finally. Ignis is still shaking, frowning more and more at his phone screen; whatever it says about soulmates and mating obviously isn't what he wants to hear. "Here," he adds, patting the pillow. "I won't touch you. Just... I need you close by, for the bond."

He's exaggerating, and they both know it; Ignis better than he does, most likely, now that he's conducted so many Moogle searches. But Noct's making use of all his tricks. His authority as the prince and future king, Ignis' vulnerability to appeals to their childhood friendship, a tug on the raw new soulbond between them.

Ignis sighs and stretches out on the bed, saying, "I'll be taking the morning-after pill tomorrow." It's not a question or a request for permission. Noct pulls the blanket up over them both.

He doesn't expect Ignis to sleep, but the stress of a long day plus the whole escalating disaster of their whatever-this-is – a relationship, maybe? – apparently wore him out. Noct still sleeps with a nightlight, even though he healed from his childhood injury well enough that tripping and falling would no longer be disastrous. He simply doesn't like the darkness, and the dim light lets him watch Ignis in sleep as he shifts to his side, curling his knees up, dragging one arm over his face.

He seems content like that, with his back to Noct. Noct should probably wish he could return his innocence, or failing that, for Ignis to forgive him. But instead he remembers how it'd felt to be inside Ignis, forcing that thin thread of a bond into bloom. Tying Ignis to him with the swell of his knot, imagining children of their making growing inside him. Ruining Ignis for his career and his duty, so that all he's good for is to stay here in Noct's apartment and be bred. Hearing people gossip about Ignis like he was an eager whore, and watching Ignis burn with the shame of knowing it was kind of true, blushing all the way down.

Ignis would never have acted on his feelings, of course, but Noct was certain he'd wanted him back, since ages ago.

He reaches out now, sliding the blanket down over Ignis' back, exposing his ass to view. He likes Ignis' ass: it's muscular and tempting, despite how flat it looks in trousers. No one else has ever had this view, and Noct's smug about that. _Mine_ , he thinks, cupping his palm around one cheek, and pressing up with his thumb to expose Ignis' asshole.

Ignis doesn't make any sign that he notices, and Noct finds that incredibly hot. Ignis' hole is still loose from what they did earlier, and despite washing there's still dried come there. Maybe it's still leaking out. Ignis probably Moogled just how long Noct's sperm would be viable inside him; Noct wonders what that felt like, to know something inside you was trying to destroy your life and not be able to stop it. Helpless, he supposes. He's never seen Ignis like that before. He's always been the one in distress. He likes the role reversal.

He gets hard thinking about it, the edge taken off his rut by sex earlier but its hormonal presence is still evident. It's easy to slide over, line his cock up, and push in. Ignis makes a small distressed noise in his sleep, but he rocks back with his hips, encouraging Noct to press all the way in.

He thinks about pulling out again, but there's an incredible thrill of power in fucking Ignis like this, so slow and stealthy, paying attention to his every breath and movement. Asleep and unprotesting, Ignis' body is like an instrument that Noct can play as he pleases.

The soulbond between them is still, not like before, when Ignis' distress made it twist and yank painfully at Noct's heart. Someday, he imagines, it'll make them stronger; strong enough that even Ignis will have to admit it's an advantage, not something to be ashamed of.

Much as Noct hates the idea, he agrees with Ignis that they shouldn't have a child now. They need to wait until Ignis has graduated, or at least until he's eighteen. Noct's father will undoubtedly argue that Noct is too young to take care of a child. But... Ignis isn't. Ignis was raised to care for Noct, and those skills never atrophied.

Noct slides his hand around to cup Ignis' stomach. He imagines that he can feel the slow movement of his dick against his palm, and smiles, imagining all the ways Ignis will be his.

He comes quietly, shaking and holding his breath, hoping Ignis doesn't wake from the pressure of being knotted again. Noct tries to send good feelings along the soulbond; he isn't really sure how it works. They'll have to experiment.

The thought fills him with a heady buzz of contented pleasure, even as he starts to drowse. He wonders if that means he's in love.


End file.
